


And Finrod Fell

by ArvenaPeredhel



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Poetry, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 20:58:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3089387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArvenaPeredhel/pseuds/ArvenaPeredhel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lament for Findaráto Arafinwion. He does not pass unmourned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Finrod Fell

I never saw his sacrifice

Or stood to witness as he fell

But still my words would give him life

Once more his story I shall tell

 

The exiled King stood at the door

As fear streamed up to hide the Sun

Wolf-lord came forth with shining sword

Their blades would clash ere day was done

 

Beneath the black the elf-lord stood

Alone yet unafraid of dark

His eyes blazed forth as fire from wood

And in his hand he held a harp

 

The demon wolf king laughed aloud

To see the frail lord standing tall

He smiled and spoke without a sound

Began to tell of kingdom's fall

 

His voice grew to an awful song

Of blood and death and love betrayed

The elf-lord felt resolve grow strong

He took his harp and met his fate

 

He answered woe with words of light

And fought the dark to see the day

His song wound through his dreadful fight

The wolf-king's thralls wept in dismay

 

The dark one did not fear defeat

Instead he raised his voice once more

The king aimed now for greater feats

Bent all his will to break the door

 

But now his doom was drawing near

His lonely voice faltered and cracked

The dark lord sang for him to hear

Of long-dead kin by oceans black

 

At this cruel verse the King was lost

For ice and blood did stain his past

Despite his strength, he fell to frost

Crumbling before the gates at last

 

Through many years he dwelt in chains

In dark and fire he learned to live

And finally escaped the pain

Life to another did he give

 

So came the tale to my own hands

By valor of a mortal's blood

The King of ancient city stands

With sundered brethren high above

 

Despite his quest's ending in death

His story did not die in time

In heart, at least, to my last breath

I'll honor he who fought with rhyme.

 


End file.
